Goal Line by Tiki Barber Read Free Book Online Page B

They weren’t smiling—but then, it wasn’t a funny speech.
    His voice hadn’t disappeared on him, and it had cracked only twice—which had drawn a giggle or two—but it had been shaking since he’d first begun his speech. The quiver in his voice was obvious, at least to him, but no one in the crowd seemed to notice.
    His essay was only five pages long, but it felt like he’d been speaking for hours and hours. Now, near the end, he felt like racing through the rest of it. But he didn’t. Scared as he was, he wanted to make sure they understood what he was trying to say.
    Ordering himself to calm down, he cleared his throat and continued.
    â€œWhat does ‘proud’ mean? It doesn’t mean thinking you’re all that, or that you’re better than anybody else. The kind of proud my mom means is the kind you have when you’re
alone
. When you lie in bed at night, are you proud of how you acted that day? Are you proud of what you said? Would you do it the same way again if you got to do it over?
    â€œFor me, playing proud means doing my best. Not just on the field. And not just when I feel like it either. I try to play proud all the time. I know I don’t always succeed, but … well, I try. And I know that you can learn more from the losses than the wins. And I don’t stop trying just because I’m tired. Because even though I might not feel likeit, somebody else out there might need me to do my best.
    â€œI know ‘Play proud’ isn’t really such a famous saying, but I think it
should
be. I’m proud of my mom for inventing it. I’m proud of her for living it, every single day. I’m proud … to be her son.…”
    He had to stop for a second, to keep himself from getting too emotional. Taking a deep breath, he finished, “And I hope I’ll always play proud enough to make her proud of me.”
    He stopped, blinked twice, and then looked up at the crowd. For a long, horrible moment nothing happened.
Did they hate it that bad?
he wondered.
    And then someone started clapping. Then more people joined in. A few people leapt to their feet, cheering. More rose from their seats, and still more, until every single person in the auditorium had risen to give Tiki a standing ovation! A thunderous roar broke from everyone’s lips as they cheered Tiki and his prize-winning essay.
    Tiki could not believe it. He was numb from head to toe. Dr. Anand had to guide him back to his chair on the stage. He collapsed into it, while she went to the microphone and asked for another round of applause for Tiki. He nodded weakly in response.
    Dr. Anand ended the assembly, and the rows of kids began filing out of the auditorium. The hall instantly grew so loud with chatter that it was impossible to hear anything distinctly.
    Tiki nodded and smiled as Dr. Anand, the dean, the assistant principal, the head of the English department, and Ms. Adair all shook his hand and said nice things he couldn’t hear over the racket.
    Finally he managed to worm his way off the stage and out into the hallway. He was already late. The team bus was waiting. If he didn’t hurry to the locker room and grab his stuff, all the players would be sitting in that hot bus, wondering what was keeping him. Tiki didn’t want to hold up the whole works right before the big game.
    But getting to the locker room wasn’t so easy. Not on this day. Kids were everywhere in the hallways, and it seemed like they
all
wanted to talk to Tiki.
    â€œDude, that was awesome!” Matt Dwayne said, giving him a fist bump and grinning widely. “Who knew you had it in you?”
    Tiki looked down at his feet and shrugged.
    â€œHey, don’t be modest,” Matt told him. “Be proud, like you said in the speech!”
    Tiki looked up at him and nodded. “You’re right, man,” he said. “It’s just … I don’t know…”
    â€œNot